


Surety

by Ryenan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, Meta, Scott is a Bad Friend, Steter Secret Santa, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryenan/pseuds/Ryenan
Summary: Steter Secret Santa for @Tailornorata <3What do destiny, love, devotion mean? Do the words even matter? Or are actions, soft hands and fierce protection, all that matter to a wolf?Surety: The state of being completely sure or certain of something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TailorNorata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TailorNorata/gifts).



Peter has one of those monstrous, L shaped couches in the loft, long enough for three people to lay down flat. This is more than sufficient for their measly pack, but it’s a sign of hope for the future. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd spend a lot of time here, training with Derek or bonding, and Stiles stays for the research resources. Scott keeps hanging around, trying to bond with them, however much he insists that he isn’t in Derek’s pack.

The pups, as Peter has labeled them, are out getting dinner when Scott and Allison show up at the loft. They come in loud and smelling like people and the food court, and Stiles knows that if he can smell it from here, it’ll only get worse as they come in past the door.

Peter is stretched out at the L bend of the couch, reading, with Stiles closer to the middle, a cushion away. He leans forward to reach the incense and almost falls off the couch, earning a snicker from Peter, so he stands to light it, quickly, and is about to hide behind the swell of the couch back again when Scott spots him.

“Stiles! I didn’t know you were here! I thought you said you were busy today, you could have come to the mall with us!” He looks legitimately upset that Stiles hadn’t come, and swoops in for a hug, not noticing how Stiles tries to dodge. Allison smiles beatifically, as if she finds them amusing.

“I am busy, Scotty, Peter and I have been translating – “

“Peter?” Scott leans around Stiles, still holding on to him with one arm, and looks at Peter.

“What is he doing here?”

Peter flips a page in his book and answers him without looking up.

“I live here.”

“Uh,” Scott starts, looking at Stiles crookedly, “This is Derek’s place, don’t you have your own apartment?”

 Scott lets go of Stiles to approach Peter, stepping way too close to the nice, clean, pack-scented couch, and his eyes go a little gold.

They’ll never know what set Scott off, but Stiles would guess that it’s the scent of pack on Stiles that doesn’t have a hint of him. That, and Scott is dumb.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Scott, but this property actually belongs to me. Derek is living with me, not the other way around.”

Oh, Scott is dumb. Stiles knows this, has known it, expects him to do stupid things, but this? This is the stupidest thing Stiles has ever seen Scott do.

Scott sits down. He spreads his arms over the back of the couch and wiggles in, getting comfortable right where Stiles had been sitting moments prior.

“I don’t believe you, Peter. This is Derek’s loft and couch and you’re just trying to – “

Peter goes for his throat. Stiles expected that, slunk away as soon as Scott sat down, but he didn’t expect it to be quite so vicious. Peter is actually furious, snarling and hissing, defending more than his territory.

Allison pulls a mini-crossbow from her purse but doesn’t shoot, just watches them tussle with a sick gleam in her eye.

“Scott challenged an older, stronger wolf over territory, what did he think would happen? Honestly, he needs to learn a lesson or two.” She says this softly, lightly, with a smile on her lips.

Conspiratorially. Like they’re friends watching a silly tussle, and not enemies watching what could easily turn in to a death match.

The fight on the living room floor must have Stiles’ adrenaline up, among other things, because he turns to her and yells like he’s wanted to for months.

“Are you talking to me? Like we’re friends, even? You let your grandfather beat the shit out of me in your basement and haven’t apologized. Why don’t you wait outside until Peter is done with Scott, and then why don’t you never come back!”

He’s shouting, out of control, and Peter is watching him closely from the floor, where he has Scott pinned, but Stiles doesn’t stop, just lowers his voice.

“You have hurt - literally, physically wounded every member of this pack. What makes you think you’re welcome here? And you,” he continues, crouching to look at Scott, “Of all the shitty things you’ve done, that you can’t even imagine, here’s an easy one for you. Do you hear Derek upstairs? Yeah. He didn’t come down to greet you because he’s been having nightmares about what you did, how you used him like a weapon. I didn’t tell you because you’re not my alpha, yadda yada yada. You don’t have to treat him like your alpha, but he is a person! Take your huntress loving omega ass and out of here and don’t ever, either of you, come back until you’re really sorry.”

Alison is shocked silent, holding back tears, and Scott looks nearly as upset.

“Stiles, what’s wrong with you? Peter attacked me! I’m your best friend! We’re pack!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Stiles doesn’t move, afraid he’ll lose his tenuous control and pick up where Peter left off. “I took the bite at the start of break and my so-called best friend didn’t even notice! I know what pack actually means now, Scott, and you aren’t it.”

Peter eases off Scott, letting him up slowly. Scott stands, but elects to stare at Stiles instead of heading for the door like Allison.

“Stiles, why – “

Stiles can’t take his petulance anymore, and cuts him off with a roar that rattles the windowpanes, flashing his eyes, unable to restrain the beta shift. Scott flinches right back into Peter, who is more than happy to manhandle him out of the loft.

“Scott, Allison, you’ve outstayed your welcome. Don’t be coming back now.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter bundles Stiles up the stairs, keeping his clawed hands away from the banister and walls. Derek watches them from his bedroom door, silent, but obviously trying to give off a sense of calm for the new beta.

“I didn’t want to show him,” Stiles sobs into Peter’s chest, “Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t want him to know, I,”

Peter hushes him as best he can with claws digging into his shoulders and 150 pounds of wolf trying to pull him into a puddle on the floor.

“You need to breathe, Stiles, relax. You’ve been doing so well, you can get your control back. Focus.”

Stiles continues to sob messily, but does allow Peter to lead him to the bed. The sheets and mattress in this room are cheap, easily replaceable, and smell like Erica, Isaac and Derek. This is their meltdown room, somewhere to stow young betas while they cope and struggle to restrain their shift. It’s a close replica to the meltdown room at the old Hale house, just with fewer kids toys and newer meditation CD’s.

Slowly the sobs slow into ragged gasps and the claws slide out of Peter’s skin.  Stiles pulls Peter closer anyway, curling his arms around his neck and burying his face in a now ruined shirt.

“I didn’t want him to see.”

“Your eyes are nothing to be ashamed of, Stiles. They tell the world you once won a difficult fight, that’s all.”

“No one knows, Peter, not even my dad. If Scott tells him – “

“He won’t, He won’t. You’re safe.”

“No one can know, Peter. Especially not my father. It would be worse than when she – when I killed her. When I killed her.”

“You don’t have to say it. You know, I see this as proof you were always destined to be a wolf. Your soul bears this scar all the way through to your new form. It’s rare. Most people change so dramatically, they don’t carry over the scars of their past.”

“What, I have the soul of a wolf?”

“I’m saying you were born with the soul of a wolf, just ended up human. You’re strong, loyal, cunning. You’ve always put the pack first, even when you were human.”

Stiles has nothing to say to that, just hums and closes his eyes, relaxing against Peter and the bed. It’s the same thing Peter has been saying for weeks now, and it is just so much to consider.

Destined to be a wolf; to run and fight and cry and love with fangs and claws. Destined to live his life at Peter’s side, Erica’s, Isaac’s, Derek’s. Destined to be a wolf. Destined to be Peter’s.

They haven’t talked about the bond between them, how strong and in control being near Peter makes Stiles feel. How soft Peter can be when Stiles is curled against him.

It’s only been a few weeks. A bitten wolf needs time to learn their strengths, their senses, before they can even begin to consider something like….

Like a mate.

 

They won’t talk about it, won’t do anything different from what they already do. They’ll share a couch and a book and a mug and a bed, and they won’t talk about it.

Love, devotion, destiny. For people, for wolves, like Peter and Stiles – there’s nothing to talk about. They already know.

 

“Thanks, Peter. I’m feeling okay now, I guess,” He says hours later, curled into Peter’s chest.

Peter is wrapped around him, protecting him. A hand on the back of his head, one splayed across his back, holding him just as tightly as Stiles had clung to him.

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Sure I love you, need you, want you. Sure.

**Author's Note:**

> The "she" in question is his mother. My headcanon for the eye-colors is that they changed for any death in protection of the pack, and blue eyes were usually worn like a badge of honor. They upset Stiles because, A, it was his mother, and B, because he's still clinging to some of his human morality. Hope that makes sense!


End file.
